Tuesday, December 29, 2015

It's not a dirty confession, really. Especially since it involves water. But the truth is, I find rain to be impossibly romantic.

I was mostly raised in the southwest, where rain is rare and when it comes on, it's usually with a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning, all drama and wind and passion lighting the sky. I can remember as a child rushing outside and standing in it, twirling round and round as my mother shrieked at me to get inside.

And let me tell you, as a former resident of the great state of New Mexico, Land of Enchantment....if you've never smelled rain on sagebrush, you need to add that to your bucket list. There is no smell like it in the world anywhere. God, I miss it.

Monday, December 28, 2015

This one's been around for a while, but it's just so great I have to shout it out again. Bec Oakley at Snagglebox.com blogs about autism parenting with heart and humor, and in her article, "17 Things 'The Princess Bride' Taught Me About Autism Parenting", she drops pearls of wisdom like shrieking eels for all of us who adore that movie and take up the mantle of autism parenting every day. Take point number four:

You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles

Be patient. Change and growth takes time, and there are no corners to be cut here. Every kid is working to their own schedule and developing at their own rate.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

I could sit here and brag all day about how Anna can out-Math the Math-iest person in all of Math-dom or how David can sing the background music to just about any movie he's ever watched, but that's Christmas newsletter fodder and you certainly don't need to read me droning on about all that.

No, today, I want to talk about their lesser-known talents. Stuff that still amazes me every time I see or hear it. Here is a list of some of my children's more amazing feats:

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

I'm not talking about bad news like a death in the family or the diagnosis of a terminal disease at Christmastime - those are hardly "presents."

No, I'm talking about the well-intended gift that just ended up being a train wreck. The half-assed attempt that fell laughably short of the mark. Or worse, the one that was meant to be as awful as it was.

Friday, December 11, 2015

It's the holiday season, folks, and every year I slave over a pile of Christmas cards, wishing I could be as clever and witty and exciting as everyone else seems to be. Here are a few people who are absolute pros at the whole Christmas card thing - maybe their inspiration will rub off!

These are great, and I have no idea why some gorgeous man hasn't snapped this beautiful and hilarious woman up already. Warning - language on one of them but makes it even funnier.Here's her 2015 card.

Thursday, December 10, 2015

When my daughter was a baby and I was carrying her brother, the ex and I were jarred out of bed at 3am one Sunday by the sound of the smoke alarms screeching in the night.

We both leaped out of bed and ended up colliding as we both tried to get through the doorway of our daughter's bedroom. Once we'd figured out the issue (we'd been remodeling the basement and drywall dust had clogged the downstairs smoke alarm) and realized there was no real threat, we were able to laugh about the way we'd slammed into each other, both of us with just one thought in our head: save Anna.

Last night, at 11:30pm the alarms went off again, and I flew out of my bed in a panic, racing for their doors. And I promptly collided with Anna as we both tried to get to David.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

I was on a Reddit post the other day and someone brought up having a girlfriend with an autistic kid and how hard it was for them to be in a relationship with her - which turned into a full on dump on parenthood and parenting special-needs kids and as usual, on Reddit (with this subject, anyway) it just got ugly.

It shouldn't surprise me. Their demographic is largely teen-to-young-adult male so what do they know about life or parental love or anything beyond their own little bubble? Still, it hurts me everytime I read someone's short-sighted comments, and I felt compelled to toss in my two cents. I didn't preach or try to shame them - I just pointed out that while my son could be challenging, he's taught me solid skills for interacting with people that I never would have known before. And I love him just like he is.

I got downvoted mostly, but I did get a few direct messages from some people who supported me, and a few people on the spectrum who thanked me for being a decent human being. My detractors will hopefully grow up and learn to be decent human beings themselves, someday, when they've gotten knocked around by life a little more.

So here's the practical application of what my son has taught me, and how it helped me to help someone else:

Monday, December 7, 2015

Am I ready for this? Is my multiply-wounded Captain Swan shipping heart really ready for this? Oh, God, the anticipation! I can't take it! I can't wait! I -

Have to watch the president talk about terrorists.

Ugh. Important stuff, I know, but really, couldn't he just have sent an email? And they damn well better not have a republican follow-up to his remarks or something dumb like that. He'll be addressing the nation next week as a bunch of rabid Oncers take the streets.

Okay, so now we're ready.

We begin tonight with young Killian (aww!) in the hold of a ship on stormy seas, calling for his ungodly hot father.

"We're all braver than we think," Papa Jones tells him. "When you're afraid, look in here," he says, tapping Killian's chest. "What kind of man are you going to be?" Nothing like philosophical conversation to distract from imminent death. Way to go, Dad.

Cue to morning and Pops is gone, leaving Killian and Liam with the grizzled old man he sold them to, trading them into servitude for the money to make a getaway. "Now you know the kind of man your father really is," the old guy tells Killian.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

It was Christmastime and I was home from college. Mom suggested we run some errands and maybe do a little bit of Christmas shopping, and I was bored, so off we went.

Around lunchtime, we decided to stop in at McDonald's since it was close by.

This is the shameful part where I tell you that I hadn't spent that many hours alone with my mother in years. I was a senior in college, and other than a few days here and there when the dorms were closed, I didn't visit home much. I loved my parents, but I honestly didn't want to live with them anymore.

My mother's only fault in this wasn't much of a fault when you think about it. She loved me too much. She was always trying too hard, overdoing, overprotecting, over-worrying to the point where it was cloying and restrictive and made me want nothing more than to be free of her. I loved her, but I loved her in small doses.

This tale begins in the checkout line at Target, fully a hundred people deep, being routed in a winding pattern through health and beauty to await our turn at getting an open register. It was hot. It was long (though to their credit, moving quickly) and we all wanted to get out of there.

The woman two spaces in front of me was on the phone arguing with someone - loudly. Then she turned to address a young boy who ran up to her, and stood there talking to him so long (and again very loudly) that the line ahead of her moved a huge distance.

The woman in front of me very meekly cleared her throat and said "Um....are you going to go?"

The loud talker immediately turned on the girl, railing at her, telling her to mind her own business and just where did she think they were all going to go? "You're in line!" she shouted at the woman. "We ain't going anywhere!"

I've started using the motor skills printouts with my son as an extra reinforcement (since they cut back on his OT this year...grrrr!) and I've found them very helpful. The site is geared toward teachers but a lot of those printables can be used for extra practice at home. Keep in mind, this site originates in the UK, so spelling on certain words will be slightly different than here in the US.

We begin tonight right where we left off, with Emma immobilized and Zelena cooing over a newly-made Dark One: Hook. In retribution for her taking his memories, he decides to take Emma's, and we'll just leave it at that and not address how it's possible that he's filled with all this dark magic and just had no inkling of it because he didn't remember. Welcome to the world of plot convenience, folks.

And in spite of that....holy damn am I loving the hell out of Dark Hook.

How is it possible that the man could get any sexier? How?? He seethes and I squirm.

Friday, November 27, 2015

The holiday season is upon us once again, and as I watch the commercials on TV, wade through the decorations at the Mall, and watch store owners prepping to open earlier than ever on Thanksgiving Day, I think the same thing I do every year:

Thank God I'm not in retail anymore.

I spent entirely too many years after college (thanks to that ever-employable Theatre degree) doing time in retail. I worked in clothing, shoes, lingerie, books and jewelry. I worked as a part-timer, seasonal help, full-timer, assistant manager, manager, and did five years as a district manager over a dozen stores in three different states. Throughout all that varied retail experience, I found one thing that just about all retail workers have in common:

They hate this time of year.

They love it when the commission check comes in (if they qualify for commission, that is - a lot of them don't), but during this holiday season when the milk of human kindness should be flowing and the holiday cheer should abound, you'll find very few gentlemen resting merry in the mall and the Christmas spirit is more like a shrieking poltergeist in the form of an angry woman denied a discount for lack of a coupon.

Monday, November 23, 2015

Today, I'd like to give a shout-out to AutismTakeOn, a community hosted by Postwaves (a community forum), where people share all sorts of stories and insights related to autism.

They reached out to me via Twitter last week and I spent a few hours just perusing the page and reading people's stories. Being an autism parent can make you feel like you're in an isolation bubble some days, and reading all the stories, all the shared articles, helps you feel just a little less alone on the harder days and five times as joyful about the good days.

Friday, November 20, 2015

It's Friday. Hallelujah. My brain is fried and I am so ready for some weekend. I always like to leave you laughing, so here's a collection of gifs that made me guffaw and snort in a very embarrassing way:

Thursday, November 19, 2015

In 1977, we sent a message into the blackness of space - one that may not be received until our civilizations have fallen, and we are all dust and memories. One that may never find another soul to hear it. But we sent it anyway.

A team of scientists, anthropologists, psychiatrists, linguists - all sorts of "ists" came up with these images, calculations, scientific data and songs to introduce humanity to the cosmos.

They did not include images of war. Or hate. Or suffering. They wanted whoever was out there to see the best of us.

If only we all wanted the same in our daily lives.

Today, I am thankful for the bounty of our world, and the diversity and unique voices of all the lives upon it. We all matter, and we're all in this together.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

I came across this touching post by Erik Voigt on YouShareProject.com and he voices what so many autism parents wish: communication. Strong, direct, defined-as-we-know-it-to-be communication.

That last bit is important, I think. My son communicates with me all the time. Unlike Erik's daughter, David has a fairly good vocabulary. The problem is he doesn't use it like everyone else. He speaks to me in blocks of movie dialogue. He repeats inane questions or remarks over and over until you're teeth are gritting at having to answer him one more time. I love the boy to the moon and back, but some days (especially days when Mom has a writing deadline) it can be trying.

When I started writing my YA novel, I knew I was going to give my protagonist a sibling who was on the autism spectrum. There aren't a lot of books out there with solid characters on the spectrum, and when there is a character with autism, they're almost always Aspberger's (my son is not) which means they're very verbal and they're usually crazy intelligent almost to the point of superhuman.

Monday, November 16, 2015

So....the writers have left us scratching our heads and rubbing our bruised hearts and thoroughly befuddled, so they all looked at each other around the table and said, "What now?"

"I know!" said one. "How about a diversion!"

So let's clack our coconuts together and head off on an adventure back to Camelot, where Zelena and Arthur have just poofed away from Emma and Merlin to plot a way to get Excalibur back. There's something that can help them in Dunbroch, Arthur tells her, and off they go.

Over to Dunbroch now, where Merida is talking to her father's headstone, asking for his guidance as she rules the pansy saps that laid down their arms because she shot at their arrows. Her Mom shows up to remind her it's coronation day. And I wish to hell they could have gotten Emma Thompson to cameo. Dammit.

Flashback to Dunbroch "several years earlier" (not taking any chances with that timeline) and Merida's dad is breaking into the witch's cottage. Invaders are attacking from the south, so he asks the witch for some magic to "ensure the future of his kingdom." She tells him she wants an IOU in return and he adds his seal to the agreement.

She takes a piece of hair from Fergus's beard and makes some polyjuice potion a magic helm that will give him "exactly what he wants" if he wears it into battle.

We begin tonight with David going to confront Arthur, who takes off running with Killian in hot pursuit. He manages to get the drop on Killian, but Emma steps in to save her boyfriend, throwing Arthur into a tree.

Emma's deep voice is seriously not sitting right with me. I mean, I get why she's doing it but it makes my throat hurt to hear it. Anyway, Killian is touched that she saved him and lets her know that he believes Emma is still in there and he wants to help her. He refuses to believe she's not dark for a good reason, and Emma drops the bombshell: "I'm doing it for you."

Flashback to Camelot, and Merlin shows up to let Emma know that Arthur has bound him to Excalibur. He tells her that Arthur is going to order him to murder her family if Emma doesn't ignite the ember and turn it over, along with the dagger. Merlin also cautions her not to seek vengeance on Arthur.

I was out sick on Friday, and I live in a cord-cutter house. I have never been so grateful for the lack of cable television as I was this weekend.

That's not to say that I didn't see the news. My Facebook and Twitter feeds overflowed with it. Reddit clued me in before most of the rest of the world was even reporting on it. I logged into CNN and Google news, and felt the fist hit my gut. My hand settled over my mouth in horror as I read, and mourned, and then the hand turned into a fist, settled next to my keyboard.

Friday, November 13, 2015

Holy cow, am I ever glad it's Friday. This week has been moving in dog years, I swear. But I'm kid-free for the weekend and I just bought "Game of Thrones" season one on DVD so I can get my Momoa fix (along with the various other mancandy on that show).

What was I saying? I sort of lost my train of thought after "Momoa..."

Oh yes. Friday. Friday the 13th, even! And in the spirit of this fine and spooky holiday, here are some videos of some poor schmucks with really terrible luck (note: some of these contain NSFW language/situations).

Thursday, November 12, 2015

This week, I'm unbelievably thankful for all the little moments that make a life worth living. For instance:

My son turned twelve yesterday. I took a moment before I woke him and watched him sleeping. Just seeing his chest move up and down and watching his peaceful face and realizing how very, very wonderful it is that somehow he's mine.

The cat climbed up on my bed this morning and laid down next to me, purring loudly. She wasn't smacking at me or headbutting me - just laying there, purring because she was happy to be next to me.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

As a person with a Theatre degree, and a lifelong lover of words and language, I am an absolute sucker for a man with an accent. Or anyone with an accent, really. So much so that I have to work hard not to fall into the accent myself.

I'm especially undone by an Irish accent. Maybe it's my heritage calling to me, but it turns out there's solid science behind our love of certain accents, according to this article from CNN.

Monday, November 9, 2015

Reader Michael pointed me toward this helpful chart on dealing with aggression in a person with autism (click on the pic to make it larger). I like this way this breaks down the potential triggers and options for accomodation and then simplifies it so that anyone can understand and help.

They did leave off a few obvious triggers that any parent would know: fatigue, hunger and pain - which a child with autism may be unable to communicate well. Other than that, this thing is spot-on for helping them learn to self-regulate and providing them safe alternatives to deal with their feelings.

I was unable to find the original source for this after Googling the hell out of it - I did find it cited on several blogger sites but nobody's claiming they created it. If anyone knows the original source, please let me know so I can give proper credit.

We begin tonight at Emma's house, or should I say "under" Emma's house, where she's dealing with Dark Rumple. He discusses the history of Excalibur and tells her it's time to fulfill the promise in the blade.

And now we go back a thousand years ago. Two people are running through the desert, away from soldiers who are hunting them. One of them is Merlin but he's wearing rags. They're hot and dying of thirst when Merlin sees something glinting in the distance. They end up finding the holy grail. His companion grabs the cup and is instantly pulverized.

Merlin decides to take his chances, and takes a drink from the cup. The grail finds him worthy, giving him magic, and the desert blooms to life under his fingers becoming (I assume) the Enchanted Forest.